Page 8 of Oops Baby for the Rockstar
“I’m not screwing some groupie.”
Zeke scoffs, still pulling faces at the mirror, and Rocco rumbles with laughter. “We’ll see.”
Yeah, we will. Setting the guitar down on the dressing table, I swallow down the sourness building in my throat and snatch a bottle of water instead. Drinking gives me an excuse not to speak.
You know, the four of us used to be closer than brothers, but the other guys just don’t get it. It doesn’t compute for them.
But I’m deadly serious. I won’t lay a finger on any woman except Tamsin.
* * *
The after party is in the theater’s loading bay, with almost thewhole back wall of the building opened up to the night sky. This is where the trucks will load up tomorrow night after the gig, before we set off on the road once more, but tonight, the docks are empty and partiers spill out to dance beneath the stars.
Everyone is wild and primal, grinding on each other and knocking back drink after drink. Rocco has stripped to the waist, and he’s got a pretty young thing perched on his back, pretending to ride him like a jockey. Zeke’s gottwogirls pressed up against the back wall of the theater, alternating between kissing each one, and Danny’s holding court in the center of the party, standing on top of a huge crate of beer to dance above his admirers.
Me?
I’ve done three laps of this party already, checking the face of every guest. Even the girls who are making out with other people—it made acid eat at my belly, but I checked them all too.
Tamsin isn’t here.
Now every step feels like a huge effort.
Gusting out a sigh, I trudge out to the loading bay and sit down on the cement, legs dangling where the trucks normally drive up. The stars glitter high above, and the moon is bright and full. It’s warm in this city, the air balmy even late at night, and a nearby row of palm trees are silhouetted against the sky.
Music throbs behind me. Screams of laughter echo, and there’s the sound of shattering glass. Tipping my bottle back, I sip my beer and stare blindly across the empty loading bays, lost in memories from three months ago.
Her husky laugh.
The eager way she tore my leather vest off, then licked me from navel to collarbone.
The way she curled into me in her sleep, burrowing close.
A flash of movement catches my eye somewhere far across the loading bay, out where our half empty equipment trucks andthe crew bus are parked up on a sea of concrete. A small figure wanders away from the parked vehicles, head ducked, shoulders rounded. They’re too far away to see any details in this gloom, too far to seeanything,really, and yet my heart jolts to life in my chest.
I sit up straighter, squinting into the darkness. My grip tightens around my beer bottle. It’s been three months now, with only my memories to go by, but Tamsin was small like that. Delicate.
High above, the moon slips behind a cloud, and the darkness deepens. I blink, and then I can’t see the figure at all.
“Is this seat taken?”
A perky voice makes me jump, and I glance over as a young redhead sits beside me without waiting for an answer. She cuddles up close, her leg pressed against mine, and strokes one hand down my bare arm.
I shudder, leaning away, but she doesn’t get the hint. She laughs, coy and flirty, like we’re playing some little game.
“You looked lonely over here, all on your own. Danny said you need cheering up.”
“Did he?” I shift away a few more inches, putting empty air between our bodies. “Well, Danny needs to wind his neck in.”
The redhead blinks at me and laughs. She still doesn’t get it, but then with her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, she’s clearly on her own planet anyway. A small palm lands on my thigh and squeezes suggestively.
“I could help you forget all about her.” The redhead leans close, her breath tickling my ear. “Tammy, was it? I could help you forget she ever existed.”
My body moves instinctively, lurching away from her touch. Before the redhead can blink, I’ve jumped down off the loading bay, and I’m striding off into the darkness. I don’t turn aroundonce, not even when she yells, “You don’t have to be such a pussy about it!”
Whatever. I flip her off over my shoulder without turning, even though she probably can’t see in the gloom.
As I march across the concrete, my heart rattles uneasily in my chest, and Christ, I’m suddenly craving a long, hot shower. She barely touched me in the end, and even so, I want to claw my own skin off. Thankfully our hotel isn’t far.
